


this is home

by livhasnolife



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Communication, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, a bunch of moments strung together essentially, pretty much just writing for the sake of writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livhasnolife/pseuds/livhasnolife
Summary: They all suck at communication, but they’re trying.Or: things that feel important.





	this is home

**Author's Note:**

> title from this song

Connor likes lemon and ginger tea with copious amounts of sugar.

Evan and his mom both don't really like that one. They tried it once just to experiment but they wrinkled their noses and poured their mugs out after the first sip. She had pat his back and made hot chocolate instead.

Still, there's a silent vow to never throw out anything that can be used in their house. Maybe it's a poor thing. Evan supposes it's convenient that they decided to keep the tea anyway because Connor loves it and now it won't go to waste. 

Connor sits there, on the counter, _Best Mom_ mug in his hands and long, spindly legs dangling over the edge. His hair messily frames his face in a wispy way. Evan feels jealous for a brief moment. He wishes his hair was as effortlessly soft as Connor's. His eyes are bloodshot and watery and Evan doesn't know if it's because of weed or something else. His face is red too though, so he sort of thinks maybe Connor's been crying. He doesn't know how to say anything though. Connor looks so exhausted.

He had just knocked on Evan's door with no warning (it scared Evan, honestly. Usually Connor texts him before he comes over because he knows how Evan's mind is). Evan had opened the door, and there Connor was. Sniffling, soaking to the point of dripping on their light blue when he came inside. He refused to take off his jacket regardless, saying Evan always kept the house too cold.

He looks over at him with tired blue eyes, across the kitchen table where Evan is seated like a _normal person_ , and asks, "Are these succulents all yours?"

Evan nods, shifts his own warm brown mug of peppermint tea around restlessly. "Yeah. I have a lot of time on my hands." His eyes travel to his little cluster of plants in colorful pots in a corner of the kitchen. His mom always says that she brings them to him because they can keep him company when she can't. There's a pregnant pause. "Are you okay?" Evan speaks up, for once.

"I think I'm coming down with something," Connor admits, sort of indifferently, sort of in a stiff, not-quite-right way, sipping some more of his tea. He places it down then, scrubs his eyes angrily.

"I guess we'll have to go another day, then," Evan says.

Connor simply nods in response. His eyes aren't focused on anything particular.

"Do you have a sore throat?"

"I mean, kind of." He grabs his cup back up and cradles it, stirs his spoon around disinterestedly.

Evan gets up from his chair and digs through the cabinet above the sink until he finds honey. He undoes the cap and hands it to Connor.

Connor lets it drip into his tea slowly. "Thanks," He tells him, running a hand through his hair. The honey looks like gold in the low light.

"Anytime," Evan says, all-too-quickly. He takes a breath, slows himself down, "Anytime at all, Connor."

When Connor starts crying, he says, "Sorry, fuckin' allergies are just.. getting to me. My tear ducts don't obey me."

And Evan hugs him.

-

The next time Connor and Evan hang out (in this weird way that they do, now. They hang out) it's on a bridge in some park Evan doesn't know the name of. It's full of these towering oak trees that he really likes. Connor seems to find his fascination something oddly amazing.

"Do you ever think about jumping?" Connor asks, lifted on the railing, arms holding on less firmly than Evan would like.

Evan squeezes the fabric of his sweatshirt in bunches from the middle of the bridge. He does not want to look in the water. He does not want to be that close to the edge. It's too much of a risk. "Um, not really." That's a lie. He really needs to get better and the Actually Communicating thing. "Actually, yes. A lot. Sorry. I'm bad at- at communication. You know that already, though, right?"

"Yeah." Connor nods, staring into the water below them. "I am too— if that wasn't obvious. It's okay." he pauses, "But, you don't have to be scared I'm going to judge you, if that's something that helps. Communication is fucking hard, I understand, but it's harder when you're afraid of judgement."

Evan just gives a forced chuckle and nods before reminding himself of what Connor just said and, _hey, communication!_ “It's, um, it's not actually. It's not obvious that you're bad at communication. You express yourself more than I do, even if it's in the loud explosive way. I'm, um, actually kind of jealous of you sometimes when it comes to that—"

"It's not really something worth being jealous over," Connor's expression is blank. He's not saying the words in a mean way, Evan thinks. "I hate the way I express things. I'm such an asshole."

"An expressive asshole," Evan points out, in a sort of teasing way. Connor smiles at him.

"I guess." He shrugs.

"I just—" Evan has a hard time finding the words. Another thing about communication that's hard. Words evade him. "I just worry so much about, um, everything I say? It's stupid, I know. I think so much and I freeze up and it just, um, it sucks. I can't really- I can't really find words? And uh, usually I end up stuttering, and making things so much worse whenever I open my _stupid_ mouth," Evan stops himself. Breathes through it. Starts again. "It's just kind of word vomit. I'm doing it now, I know." 

"It's not a bad thing, Evan," Connor says, in a sort of wounded way, "You can't help it. You'll get there."

Evan wants to say _will I? Will we?_ but he doesn't. He finds he doesn't really want to, after all. He crushes a red leaf under his sneaker. 

"For- for what it's worth I, uh, I don't want you to jump," Evan says.

Connor looks at him with something Evan can't seem to place. "It wouldn't kill me."

"Either way."

"I don't want you to jump either, then," Connor decides. He steps back down and away, suddenly, brushes off his jeans. He holds a hand out for Evan. "Let's go somewhere else."

"Okay," Evan complies. He wipes his hands on his pants then takes Connor's and feels himself led away. They walk through crisp leaves and out of the park, to Connor's car. Connor only lets go of his hand when they have to enter separate sides of the car.

-

"Today?" Evan asks, too incredulously.

Connor nods with certainty. "Today." He starts walking towards the car.

"Alright," Evan says, adjusting his hands on his backpack straps.

Connor looks back at him, but doesn't halt. He quirks an eyebrow. "Well, Hansen? What are you waiting for?"

"Sorry!" he stumbles, and his sneakers make a _scrrrape_ noise on the pavement but he catches his footing and catches up to Connor.

"You're good. Let's go," Connor says, and they head to the car together, side by side, falling into step. Connor notices this and stops dead in his tracks.

"Connor?" Evan calls.

"That's never happened before." He's staring at Evan's feet.

"What?"

"I've never fallen into step with anyone before." He meets Evan's eyes then, a taken aback look on his face. "Zoe always kind of had this bounce to her step," he tells him.

Evan smiles. He backs up and places a hand on Connor's back gently. "Let's go." It feels like an important moment.

-

When they arrived at the orchard, Evan's sure his face lights up at the sight of it. He can _feel_ it.

"Oh my god."

"I knew you'd like it." Connor knocks their shoulders together.

"I love it. Look at all these trees! And- and the apples!"

"That's kind of what an orchard is, Evan," Connor speaks, amused.

"These are honeycrisp apples! I love honeycrisps!" 

"Are they your favorite?" Connor asks as they walk, stepping on multiple honeycrisp apples by accident much to Evan's dismay.

"No. I- I actually prefer pacific rose over anything," he says, like it's common knowledge. Like anyone would know what it meant.

"How do you know this? How can you tell the difference?" Connor questions, puzzled.

Evan looks at the ground. "I don't know," he says quietly, "I just.. really like apples, I guess."

"And trees," Connor adds.

"And trees," Evan agrees.

"The only apples I actually know the name of are jazz apples because I bought Zoe a bag of them for Christmas once." Connor muses, "I wrapped them and everything. I thought it was a great idea at the time, high out of my mind. I didn't realize I didn't give her any explanation and she obviously wouldn't know they were jazz apples," he pauses. "She was so fucking confused when she opened them. I explained it of course but she. Didn't get it. Larry found it funny though, weirdly enough. That.. made it worse somehow."

Evan dissolves into laughter, the Genuine Good Kind, that make a light floating feeling fill your chest. He places a hand on Connor's shoulder to balance himself.

Connor grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, and says, "Is this okay?"

Evan wants to say _always, forever, more than okay, please never stop holding my hand,_ but instead he nods. He gives Connor's hand a little squeeze. 

They smile and talk and walk for a while. The world is light for a bit. The sky is light and beautiful. Things are okay, for now, surprisingly.

-

"When were you going to tell me you decided to abandon me for emo boy?" Jared asks one day in the school halls.

"I'm not- I’m really not abandoning you,” Evan tries to reason.

"You are, but it's okay." Jared gives him a less-than-gentle pat on the back. "I knew this day would come."

"Jared—" Evan pleads.

"Chill, Evan, I'm joking," Jared says with a wave of his hand. Evan doesn't believe him. Evan doesn't chill. Something in him boils over like the time he left water on the stove too long for tea. He ended up burning himself then, and he'll probably end up doing that now, but he's suddenly just so full of _something_ that he can't seem to think about it.

"Are you, though?" Evan asks, something cold and unfamiliar to even him in his tone.

Jared physically stops in his tracks, surprised. Evan doesn't usually do anything like this. "I—"

"You know what? At least Connor's actually my friend," Evan says, wanting to be heard, to be seen, wanting Jared to _realize_ how hard every day is for him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jared says, voice low, unsteady. It tells Evan he's traveling on rocky terrain. There's something in Jared's voice that's a bit softer, but Evan doesn't really catch it. He hasn't for a long time.

"We're family friends, Jared. You're using me for car insurance!" Evan raises his voice, but in the Evan way. No one really hears them. He laughs, a little, in this hollow way, like _how can you not see this? how can you not see this?_

Jared's mouth opens, closes, but it seems like no noise will will come out. "Fuck you, Evan!" he shouts, finally. He kind of looks like he's going to cry, but he's not. Jared Kleinman has tear ducts made of steel.

Evan turns the other way and doesn't look back. He makes a beeline for the bathroom. It's just his luck that Connor would be there.

Connor's leaning up against a wall at the far corner of the bathroom. He turns his head in Evan's direction, probably from hearing the door open. "Evan?" he asks.

Evan doesn't say anything, all of the sudden hyperaware of the fact he's crying.

"Oh my god, you're crying. Are you okay?" Connor pushes himself off the wall and approaches him. 

All the bathroom stalls are slightly ajar. He lets himself relax, feels himself physically deflate. "I don't know," Evan says honestly. His words have that thick, crying tone.

"What happened?" Connor grabs his hand and squeezes. Evan, through cloudy eyes, knows it's the wrong time to think that Connor's beautiful but. He's never been good at timing.

"Me and J-Jared got into a, ah, pretty nasty argument." He can't stop looking at Connor's hand. It's spindly and bony and a little too cold but it's a good hand and Evan likes how it looks next to his own a little too much.

"Fuckin' Kleinman," Connor mutters. Evan gives a weak laugh. "Really though, I'm sorry," Connor says.

"It's okay, I think." Evan can't look away from Connor's face.

"Do you wanna cut class?" Connor asks.

Evan shakes his head insistently. "I'm too on edge for that one today."

"How about you go to the nurse and I'll meet you outside of school?" Connor suggests.

Evan nods, a little unsure at first, before he realizes how much he would like that. "Okay. Yeah. That sounds good."

Connor smiles, teeth impossibly white, it's not _fair_ , and says, "Good."

-

When Connor and Evan have a sleepover, Evan tells him that he's never seen the sunrise. Connor sets an alarm for 5 a.m. and says, "We have to change that."

Which is how they end up in a tree at 5 a.m., huddled together and freezing, eyes on the still dark sky. Their breaths come out in puffs of hot air that they can see.

"I guess we came out a little too early," Connor says, pale face so much more flushed than Evan's used to. His ears are redder than Evan's seen, and Evan sort of wants to kiss him, but he's worried that Connor will push him away and he'll fall out of the tree and it's definitely not high enough to die but it's high enough to fracture an ankle and–

"I guess so," Evan agrees, a bit sleepily. "I don't mind though." He rests his head, tentatively, gently, on Connor's shoulder.

"Me neither," Connor adds, softly. He speaks so quiet around Evan sometimes, like Evan is something fragile that he doesn't want to break. Like Evan is something worth protecting.

He's not.

Evan knows he's the only one who sees this side of Connor and that makes something ache in his chest, because he wishes Connor had so much better than him, he _deserves_ so much better than him, but it also aches because he's as special to Connor as Connor is to him. And that makes Evan's heart do weird, inexplicable things. Things Evan can't communicate because words are hard.

"I can't believe you're not tired of me yet," Connor speaks, the words swirling in the air as the sky lightens, ever so slowly.

"I don't think I'll ever be tired of you," Evan admits, pulling his mittens tighter on his hands. He wobbles for a second on the branch, but Connor reaches out a hand to steady him. "Thanks."

Connor nods dutifully in response. "No problem." 

"It's all too much sometimes. There's just.. so many colors," Evan tells Connor, because he needs to tell someone. 

Connor grabs Evan's mitten-clothed hand, gives it a squeeze, and whispers, "I know. I wish I could help. It’s so fucking hard sometimes."

"You do help. It's okay. We’ll get through this together,” Evan says. Connor smiles, not big and bright and coral like when he laughs, but instead, soft and periwinkle and special. The smile exclusively for Evan.

Connor, blue scarf wrapped around his neck and Evan's old 3rd grade bobble hat on his head, says, "Thank you for being my friend." as the sun rises.

-

"Honey, have you talked to Jared recently?" Heidi asks one night, after work but still in her scrubs with tired eyes. She doesn't have any classes, and they're waiting on the couch for Chinese delivery.

Evan feels a pang of guilt. He knows it was good for him to stand up for himself, but Jared.. also doesn't know how to communicate. None of them do. They're all trying their best and Evan should have cut him more slack but Jared makes him feel so insecure and skittish sometimes. Jared honestly sort of scares him.

"Um, not really, no," he confesses. "Why?"

Heidi's frown deepens. "Miriam said he hasn't gotten out of bed in days, saying he's sick, but she can tell he's not sick. She doesn't know how to deal with it," she pauses, "I wanted to know if you knew anything?" 

"No," Evan says, like a liar. He squeezes the threads of his shirt in his hands. He wants to say sorry to Jared, but he also doesn't. He doesn't want to go back to _family friend_ and _car insurance_ and _acorn_ and sweeping things under the rug because jared’s the only person who actually talks to him and apathy.

Heidi smiles, in an exhausted way, and it doesn't reach her eyes by a long shot. "That's okay, sweetheart."

-

"Do you- do you ever worry you're not even here?" Evan expects Connor to look confused, or maybe ask 'what?', but he doesn't. They're in the library and Connor is tapping his fingers along spines of books.

"All of the time." He pulls a book from the shelf nonchalantly, like they aren't nonexistent, "Sometimes I think maybe I'm dead."

Evan nods. "It's.. it's so hard to tell occasionally."

"You probably can't read when you're dead," Connor points out, book still propped in his hand.

"Probably. I guess. Yeah." Evan is having a Bad Day. Everything is _too much_ and he's _not enough_ and he's paranoid and off-kilter and not even sure anything is real.

"Whenever I feel dissociative," Connor starts, opening the book, skimming the pages, snapping the book shut. "I do this weird thing where I just try to notice things about the room, and how I feel physically, and like, I dunno, ground myself." He puts the book back and touches the bookshelf instead. "Example, this bookshelf feels rough. My hands are cold. My sweatshirt fabric is soft. I'm spinning on a giant planet right now. I can feel my feet. I can feel gravity."

"That's an interesting way to try and fix the problem," Evan acknowledges.

"Everyone's different, but it always helps a little for me. It doesn't fix anything— but, it helps."

-

Connor and Evan start sharing headphones before class, and even though they both have wildly different music tastes, they meet each other halfway. Sometimes Evan dares to show Connor a song that reminds him of him, but he doesn't tell him that. He figures that if he's too nervous to actually tell Connor how he feels, then this is the least he can do.

They lean against their lockers, Connor's cracked phone resting in his hands between them. Evan wants to hold his hand. He doesn't. 

He plays songs for Connor, he plays songs _for_ Connor, as people slowly filter in. It's always nice and quiet at first. Everyone's tired at such an ungodly hour.

As soon as the louder kids start to infiltrate the school, they usually finish their song and turn off the music, because people talking over the songs bother Connor, because he says he ‘wants to hear Evan's music, loves hearing Evan's music’. Evan's stomach flips like he's falling.

Maybe he is.

-

Connor texts him Youtube videos and memes and it feels like such a nice gesture even if it could be considered small. It feels nice to just have someone see something, and think, miraculously, of him. _Him_ , of all people.

Whenever this happens, Evan wishes, very out of the blue, that he was more engaged in social media just so he could return the amazing feeling of being thought of.

To compensate, he takes walks around town once a week, and texts Connor pictures of bugs and pretty buildings and other things he finds on his way. He texts Connor pictures of trees he thinks are amazing. Whenever he sees a cat, the first thing he thinks is _I need to take a picture of that cat right now and send it to Connor because Connor loves cats._

-

He thinks about Jared a lot. He thinks about Jared and he feels bad because Jared is still just a boy. They're both just boys who are bad at communicating but they do it in different ways. Evan stumbles and tells too much, _too much_ , _**too much**_.

And Jared.. Evan doesn't know what Jared's deal is but he _knows_ Jared isn't a bad person. He also knows that Jared’s been through a lot. He still remembers a Jared Kleinman who taught him how to ride a bike, a Jared Kleinman who used to say that Evan was his best friend, a Jared Kleinman who accepted Evan as bi as soon as the words left his mouth. That Jared is still there, somewhere.

Evan knows it.

-

When Evan gets permission to search through Connor's bag for his headphones while Connor's in the shower, he doesn't mean to open his sketchbook when he stumbles upon it. He doesn't mean to leaf through it. It's a total violation of privacy but he can't help it. He tells himself he'll put it right back in the bag as soon as he hears the water shut off and Connor will never know.

Connor is an amazing artist. His works are watercolor and graphite and beautiful. There's faces, mostly. Mostly people Evan doesn't know, but there are trees and pencils and other things too. And when he flips into the later pages, he sees a more familiar face appear often. His own.

And Connor.. God, Connor makes him seem _beautiful_. Evan is far from beautiful.

When he hears the water shut off, he means to put the book away like planned, but he freezes.

"So, the water suddenly became scalding—" Connor starts, before stuttering to a halt. His face becomes paler. "Fuck. _Fuck_. Hansen, why _would you look in there_? That's my personal shit. What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" His voice raises, and Evan winces, but his words aren't actually angry. Evan knows Connor angry. Connor angry is slamming cabinets and unrestrained behavior and tumultuous waves. 

"You- you drew me." And just like that, the angry facade is slipping off his face, and he just looks scared.

"I can explain—" Connor tries, taking a small step forward.

"Connor," Evan says, so much weight on two syllables. "Kindly, shut up."

And then he stands up, hopes that this is the right thing to do, and walks until Connor is right there, and finally, _finally_ does what he's wanted to for months. He pulls Connor down by his collar and kisses him breathless.

Everything feels right, for once.

-

Miriam looks perplexed when Evan asks to come in after knocking on the Kleinmans' door. He almost thinks she's going to say no, but instead she sighs and ushers him in. She tells him that Jared's in his bedroom.

When he's ascending the stairs, Miriam calls, "Hey, Evan?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Be gentle with him, okay?" And he nods, finishes climbing the stairs.

He knocks on the door and he's met with a grunt that sounds like 'come in' so he does just that. 

Jared is nothing more but a lump in the middle of a mattress. "Jared?" Evan asks.

He jolts upwards at that, out of his covers. "Evan, what are you doing here?"

He rings his hands together. "I want to talk about it."

Jared drops back down onto the bed with an exasperated noise. "I don't, Evan."

"You- you never do, though, that's the thing, Jared. We have to face these- we have to face these issues eventually," Evan tries to tell him.

Jared turns back over, facing away from Evan. "You should leave," he says.

"No. Jared, I'm-" he pauses, takes a breath, "I'm holding my ground this time. Communication is something I'm really bad at, and, and I think you're really bad at too. We need to learn to communicate."

"What is there to talk about?" Jared asks, still not looking at him.

"Are we friends?"

"Fuck, what, Evan?" Jared laughs a bit, not cruelly, not happily, somewhere in the middle. "Of course we are?"

"You need to- to stop saying you're using me for car insurance and that we're just family friends, then."

Jared's silent for a few moments. Evan sits down on his spinny chair.

"I don't know how to joke with people. My voice comes out too harsh or not enough and at this point showing when I actually enjoy someone's company is probably hard to distinguish. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Evan says.

"I just. I've been through a lot, you know that. I feel like talking about sappy shit like this makes me weak. Talking about feelings shows people you have emotions and that's seen as weakness."

Evan makes a mangled noise, "You really think _I'm_ going to care about that?"

Jared takes a sharp inhale through his nose. "No. No I don't."

"Then—?"

"Force of habit, probably." 

They sit in silence for a bit longer. It's not stifling or uncomfortable.

"I think I’m jealous of you, honestly," Jared speaks up.

"What? _Me_? Why would you ever be jealous of me?"

"You're not afraid of your feelings," Jared says quietly. Evan doesn't comment on the tears falling down his face. He just rolls his chair across the floor and hugs Jared. They agree on being friends again and _actually talking about sappy bullshit_ and hanging out sometime this weekend.

-

"Miriam said Jared started feeling better after you visited," Heidi says, making scrambled eggs on a Sunday. She has the day off today. It's a rarity. "Would you know anything about that?"

"Stroke of luck, um, probably," Evan says, tapping his nails along the kitchen table.

Heidi just smiles wide and says, "Okay," with a wink.

-

The first time the Murphys' call him in a panic and say that they can't find Connor, the first place Evan goes is the orchard. And it’s for good reason, apparently, because he walks for a while and sees Connor there, under a big, overgrown apple tree.

"They're worried about you," is the first thing out of Evan's mouth.

"I'm worried about me," he answers numbly.

Evan walks a little bit closer. “What happened?”

Connor lets his face fall into his hands. “Too much. I don’t. I don’t think I can articulate it. Just chaos at my house. You know the colors thing you talked about a while ago? It’s. It’s that. It’s just really overwhelming.”

“I understand,” Evan says. He reaches out a hand to brush Connor’s hair out of his face. Connor’s slightly shorter hair. “Did you get a haircut?"

Connor almost-smiles. "Kind of. I, I think I cut it myself? I don't know. Home was really bad this weekend as I’ve said. I was high for most of it after I realized it wouldn't get better."

Evan frowns. "I thought you were stopping."

"I am," Connor agrees. "I just fall back into the habit sometimes.” he pauses, “God, I am so _fucked up_."

"We both are, it's okay. We're trying, and it's helping, isn't it?" Evan sits next to him. Leans into him. Holds his hand.

Connor nods. "Yeah."

"When home is hard, the orchard can be our new home."

"That was so sappy." Connor laughs. "I like it, though."

“I like you.”

—•—

**Author's Note:**

> this isn’t my best work but like. i just was inspired by the song this is home and i felt the need to write something about it and i had a lot of fun writing it
> 
> also this video by jaiden animations (who i love) helped with my apple knowledge


End file.
